


Typewriter Tango

by sunset_oasis



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/F, Office Sex, Smut, coworkers with benefits, of a pairing probably only i care about lol, this is ... just a very self-indulging thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 19:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14600499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/pseuds/sunset_oasis
Summary: “Perhaps you could put your fingers to better use than typing out all those lies,” Moxie drawled, her lips twisting.“Oh? You probably think I could put my mouth to better use, too, don’t you?” Geraldine shot back with a smirk.





	Typewriter Tango

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE/ATWQ

It was a hot summer afternoon that day as Moxie Mallahan got back to the office. She wasn’t in any particular good mood, as none of the investigations that week paid off.  Everything clue seemed to lead to a dead end.

While walking back into an office with air-conditioning gave her a brief moment of satisfaction as the cool air brushed over her skin, Moxie’s annoyance soon flared up again as she saw her coworker.  Geraldine Julienne sat at her cubicle, typing eagerly onto the typewriter while talking into the phone sycophantically.

Moxie didn’t need to hear the other person’s voice, she could easily figure out who Geraldine was talking to with the expression on her face.  There was really only one possibility – Esme Squalor.  Moxie’s lips pursed unpleasantly as she walked nearer to Geraldine, her eyes settling on the typewriter and sharply scanning over all the untruthful things being typed out.

Perhaps it had to do with the fruitless investigations recently, seeing Geraldine behaving like – well, her usual self, to be fair – pissed Moxie off more than usual.  The satisfying cool air feeling faded away soon enough, and soon only annoyance was left.  She stopped right by Geraldine’s cubicle, and leant against Geraldine’s desk.  Her fellow journalist raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

While she would never admit it, Moxie had a more than clear idea of how this little office power play would probably end.  In a way that wouldn’t resolve any real problems between them, but could resolve certain other things.

 _Had_ resolved other things.

As Geraldine talked on, Moxie studied her. Her slightly pale lips looked a little dry, probably from all the talking and busily agreeing with Esme Squalor, Moxie mused. Moxie had noticed her tall nose before, and she simultaneously admired the shape of it and recalled the story of Pinocchio out of – well, probably spite. Geraldine Julienne wasn’t particularly gorgeous, but there’s something neat about her facial features.

 _Not that facial features mattered over journalism integrity,_ she thought firmly to herself.

The sad thing was, as she slowly grew up, she started realizing that journalism integrity wasn’t as simple as she’d thought at thirteen. The truth was often complicated, and sometimes might not set anyone free or earn any gratitude.

Geraldine ended the call, and Moxie narrowed her eyes. “Creating fake news again?”

“Creating news that has _readership_. _Profitable_ news.” Geraldine corrected Moxie, her tone sweetly challenging as she emphasized on the words ‘readership’ and ‘profitable’.

A few years ago, Moxie would’ve said something like “how could you call yourself a journalist?” But she’d learned that had no effect on her fellow journalist who was Esme Squalor’s biggest fan.  Instead of wasting time trying to change other people, Moxie learned that it was way more productive to just save the time to try to investigate the truths and write accurate news herself, to combat with all lies.  Instead of wasting her time to convince Geraldine not to create those ridiculously fake news on a typewriter, she’d somehow developed into the habit of –

“Perhaps you could put your fingers to better use than typing out all those lies,” Moxie drawled, her lips twisting.

“Oh? You probably think I could put my mouth to better use, too, don’t you?” Geraldine shot back with a smirk.

Yeah, she’d known how this kind of office power play would end after a few times.  Growing up was about compromises, Moxie thought.

Geraldine’s eyes sparkled, looking almost victorious.

 

* * *

 

When Eleanora Poe came into their office to check on them, Moxie was typing away furiously on the typewriter, her breaths slightly uneven.  Not that Eleanora Poe would ever be observant enough to notice any details like that.

“She went to interview Mrs. Squalor half an hour ago,” she replied when their boss asked her where Geraldine was.  Eleanora looked pleased at the answer and said something about how this would benefit The Daily Punctilio.

All Moxie could thought about at that moment was, _how was it possible you could feel someone’s smugness radiating off their tongue_ as the said tongue teased her, delved deeper into her, and her thighs clenched involuntarily.

“Well, that certainly is a nice answer,” Geraldine’s voice came from under the desk after Eleanora left. “Not so hard telling a lie, is it?”  Moxie could feel the other journalist’s fingers slowly migrated upwards on her inner thigh. “I do feel honored that the truth-insisting Moxie Mallahan told a lie for me.  This calls for a celebration.”

“Shut up,” Moxie said through gritted teeth.  Her hands moved around the typewriter fast as she pretended to be still typing out news, trying to prove that she wasn’t affected by Geraldine at all. If anyone took a closer look, though, they would realize all those texts were unintelligible.

Moxie could hear Geraldine’s smirk. Before she had the chance to say something scathing about it, she heard herself gasping as she felt Geraldine’s finger moved, and the paper with unintelligible keysmash texts in front of her dissolved into stars exploding in a dark night.  Somewhere along the explosion, the gasp turned into a scream.

When her vision returned again, she saw a line mixed with J’s and S’s on the paper in front of her.

“So, how’s news writing going up there?” Geraldine asked, falsely innocent.

Moxie ripped the paper off the typewriter and stood up, pretending her knees weren’t still feeling weak. “Excellent,” she replied coolly.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://penultimatesugarbowl.tumblr.com)


End file.
